A Period of Adjustment
by Eve Davidson
Summary: Joey seeks Snake's advice on dealing with Craig when he first arrives in season 2.
1. Chapter 1

Craig had moved in. It was a little weird. I sat at the table, watching him and Angie. I didn't really feel like I could tell him what to do, like I could with Ang. But then again I didn't really need to. He was quiet and cautious. He picked up after himself. He looked fearful and guilty if anything spilled, if anything made a loud noise, if anyone moved too fast. Okay, not anyone. Me. More than once I'd seen him flinch away, I'd seen him catch his breath, I'd seen him almost expect me to yell and to hit him.

It was a bit of a strange adjustment. I hadn't really known him when Julia was alive. We didn't see him all that much, and sometimes when she'd spend the day with him I was at work or I just didn't go along. He was in and out, a quick hi here and there and then his dad was picking him up. Had his dad been abusing him back then? I suppose it was possible but I didn't know. We didn't talk about it. I didn't know what to say about it, or even if I should say anything so I didn't. I figured if he wanted to talk about it he'd bring it up, and he didn't.

Right now he was just watching T.V. with Angie and it was a cartoon of her choosing. He didn't impose on us, even down to choosing a T.V. show. I felt bad about that, I felt like he was trying not to be trouble or inconvenient for a couple of reasons. One reason was that he felt like maybe he didn't belong here, that we'd been nice enough to take him in and he didn't want us to regret it. The other reason he was so unassuming and so well behaved was because maybe he had to be that way at his dad's or things would have been worse. Both things weren't really good, but I didn't see how to address them. It wasn't like he was doing anything wrong. What was I supposed to say? Make a mess once in a while and pick a T.V. show?

I needed some outside counsel. I needed advice. Snake. Snake worked with kids, teenagers, whatever. Maybe Snake would know how to deal with him, what I should say and do. I called him up and he was home and willing to meet me for a coffee.

"Craig?" He looked up at me, and there were layers to his looks. On the surface he looked mildly inquisitive but beneath he was afraid, almost terrified. Poor kid. Was he fucked up.

"Yeah?"

"Um, would you mind watching Ang for a bit? I'm going to meet Snake at the coffee shop," I was determined not to lie to him. Not that Albert lied to him, but I'm sure he said the standard, 'it'll never happen again,' line after beatings. And maybe he had meant it when he said it. But then he did it again, making it a lie. I was determined to be absolutely truthful with Craig. I wanted to build some sort of trust.

"Okay," he said, and I knew he'd immediately agree. He agreed to everything I asked, and that was part of the problem. But it worked for now.

"I don't think I'll be too long but I'm not sure. Make sure she goes to bed by eight," I said, and Craig nodded. I went over and kissed her cheek and ruffled his hair. Angie smiled at me and reached up her arms to hug me. Craig stiffened and tried so hard not to pull away.

Snake was already there when I got there since he lives a little closer. I was reminded of when we were kids and we'd meet for fries or pizza and I'd wheedle some advice out of him.

"Jeremiah," Snake said, gesturing me over, "I already ordered your coffee," he said. I smiled distractedly and slid into the seat, sipped my coffee, stared at his freckled hands holding the white ceramic cup.

"What's up?" he said, and I took another sip and let the warm liquid slide down my throat. Closed my eyes. Ugh, I felt so stressed out having Craig around.

"Well, it's Craig. I just kind of feel out of my element. Snake, he is so screwed up. I don't know what to do with him, or how to reach him, or if I should even try to reach him. Do you have any advice? Any wisdom, since you work with kids and all. I mean, you know if you wanted some advice regarding a once loved vehicle I'd be your man,"

He sat back and gathered his thoughts. Sipped his coffee. I waited, in no hurry. Angie was perfectly safe with Craig. He'd probably clean the whole house for me, too. But I didn't want him doing that shit. I wanted him to be a normal 14 year old kid.

"I know it's probably difficult having Craig suddenly thrust into your family. I guess you have to keep in mind some things about him. He's an abused child, and we don't really know the extent of that abuse. It's not something he's going to heal from overnight. But he's safe now. He's just got to adjust to that. Let him. Just give him time. And it's got to be strange for him, being in a new situation, dealing with different people. He's used to living with his dad, dealing with his dad. Now he's got Angela around, he's got you. I think time is the key here. Is he okay? I mean, what's he doing?"

I finished off my coffee, looked at a few of the coffee grounds swirling around the bottom of the cup.

"He's being too good. He cleans, he's polite, he never imposes. He's cautious. I just feel like he's scared,"

Snake nodded, fiddled with the menu.

"He probably is. He's used to trying to be good. He most likely has the mind set that if he's good enough than people won't get angry, like you, like his dad. Kids blame themselves for everything. Maybe you could talk to him about his dad and what happened, tell him it's not his fault,"


	2. Chapter 2

Just like I thought, the house was notably cleaner when I got back. It was nine o'clock and Angie was in bed, the dishes were done, the living room was tidied. Craig was watching MTV and doing his homework. He looked up when I opened the door.

"Hi, Joey," he said.

"Hi," I went into the kitchen and got myself a beer. I liked having beer after I was wired on coffee. I guessed it was my version of the beer and red bull. I twisted the cap off my beer and took a long swallow. I longed for Julia. How had it come to me being alone in this kitchen? I used to stand right here by this sink and put my arms around her, her slender waist, her long black hair getting in my face. I sighed. In the three years that she's been gone she hasn't faded one bit.

"You cleaned," I said to him, coming into the living room. I said it like an accusation.

"Uh, yeah," he said, and went back to his homework. Homework was a convenient way to ignore me.

"Are you almost done with that?" I said. He looked up again.

"Yeah, almost,"

I didn't turn the channel from MTV. It wasn't exactly MTV, not the original one I used to watch in the eighties. It was MTV two or something like that, the channel they actually showed videos on. Sometime in the late nineties the original MTV stopped showing any music videos at all, except for maybe at two in the morning. The video that was playing now was some post-grunge indie pop group with a slightly overweight ernest singer taking the blame for things he's done in his life. It wasn't bad.

I was waiting Craig out, sipping my beer. He kept plugging away at that homework. I thought the more beer I had in me the better I could deal with talking to him about things. The social lubricant, they called alcohol. So I swigged it like medicine and tried to arrange what I was going to say.

He closed his book and set it on the coffee table. I set my beer next to it. It was nearly empty and I thought about getting another one. Another beer would go nicely with this little discussion. I went to the kitchen, glancing back at Craig to make sure he wasn't planning on bolting upstairs. He leaned back and watched the T.V., put his feet up on the coffee table. I did that enough so he knew it was okay. The damn coffee table was nearly 30 years old anyway so who cared.

I twisted the cap off and tossed it in the rubbish on my way over to the couch. Craig shifted his weight and didn't look at me. I wanted another beer because I wasn't so sure it was a good idea to talk to him about things that were upsetting and traumatic. I didn't want to make him remember things he didn't care to. But I wanted him to know that he didn't have to be so careful around us, around me.

"Craig, uh, how are you doing?" I said, sipping my beer, hiding behind it.

"Good," he said, not even glancing at me. That wasn't an answer. It was a disinterested fine.

"I wanted to talk to you," I said, that awkward sentence just hanging there. And now he did look at me with his cautiousness.

"Look, I know things were bad at your dad's house, and if you want to talk about any of it I'm here,"

He just looked at me, didn't say anything. Like I figured he didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay, well, I just kind of wanted to let you know that you don't have to be so careful around here. Like cleaning, I'm glad you're helping out but I kind of feel like you feel like you have to. It's just, you're not imposing on us, you know? Angie is thrilled that you're here, and I'm glad you're here, too. Okay?" I rambled at him. I didn't really know what to say. But he smiled at me, the first smile I'd seen on him when Ang wasn't around.


	3. Chapter 3

He didn't tell me anything. The smile was about it. What did I expect? He'd already cried in my arms that night at the cemetery. That would probably be it. And that was enough.

I looked over the top of my book that I was reading in bed, the lamp the only light in the room. So many things made me miss Julia. My bedroom at night. My bedroom in the morning. Angela's face, more and more like Julia's everyday.

I thought about Craig, how he looked that night when me and Sean fished him out of the cemetery, the veiled terror in his eyes, the tears shining but not falling. The way he jerked away from me, a coiled spring. "Leave me alone!" he'd exploded, "I'm fine!" I think I had never seen someone who was so not fine in my life.

I wondered if I was taking Craig in solely because of Julia. Of course Julia was a part of it. He was her son, and I loved her, so I loved him. But that was like an extension of my love for Julia. Craig himself I didn't really know. I didn't know where I stood. He was a likable enough kid. Smart and funny and nice in a way some kids were and some weren't. But he was damaged. I could see it in all of his actions and reactions. And I didn't know how damaged. What exactly did Albert do? How bad had it been? I might never know.

I thought over what Snake had said about time and I agreed with him. Time would take care of a lot of it. But I wasn't good at waiting things out. I wanted to do something now to help him, to fix him, to not screw him up any more than he already was.

And I didn't want to gently neglect Angela in my consuming concern for Craig. She was so little, she needed so much love and attention. It couldn't be helped that Craig took a little bit of that away from her. I was doing this backwards. Instead of having a new baby kind of ease into the family I had a full-blown teenager burst in, and what would he take?

I shook my head. I was selfish, I had this selfish need to protect myself and Angie from him, from his woundedness and neediness, from the traumatic past we didn't share. Julia was gone and in a way it wasn't exactly fair that Craig had become my burden.

I licked my lips and shook those thoughts away. Julia would not be happy with me, and those weren't my primary thoughts, just a seedy underbelly to my growing love and concern for him. And hanging over our heads was the fact that Albert was going to take him back. This was temporary. Temporary at best.

I closed the book and reached over to snap off the lamp when my cell phone buzzed to insistent life on the bedside table. I snatched it up, thinking it might be Caitlin. Hoping it was.

"Hello?"

"Joey," I knew this way of saying my name, I knew this inflection. It was Albert. I closed my eyes. I didn't quite feel up for a phone conversation with Dr. Manning.

"Hello, Albert," I said.

"I'd like to see Craig," he said, and I rubbed my temples with my fingers. The dull roar of a headache was fighting its way to the surface of my skull. No, everything inside of me shouted, no. It was too soon.

"Albert, I think it might be too soon for that-"

"He's my son," Quiet and insistent. This refrain again. I thought, 'then you shouldn't have beat the shit out of him, asshole,'

"Yes, but I think it's too soon. You could call him, maybe-"

"You're not letting me see my own son?" Still quiet and in control but now there was an edge of desperateness to his words. The headache pulsed in a steel band from my temples to the top of my head.

"No, Albert, it isn't like that. You can see him, just not now. It's too soon. He's not ready. So you can _call_ him, but that's it. For now," I was holding my breath, hoping he would accept this and not push me. I'd have to involve Children's Aid if he pushed me. And I would.

He sighed, I heard it clear as day over the cell phone.

"Fine," he said, and then I was listening to the dead silence. He'd hung up.


	4. Chapter 4

I stir fried some vegetables and chicken, poured myself another glass of wine, missed Julia, felt it like the ache of a bad tooth. The kids were here, Angie was in front of the T.V. watching cartoons and drawing. Only the T.V. was on in the living room and it lit her face in the eerie blue glow. Craig was upstairs. He'd been retreating there more and more. I could hear music coming from his room.

"Ang, can you go get Craig?" I said while I set up the plates, grabbed forks and plastic cups, poured Kool-Aid. Angie bounded up the stairs and I heard her faint voice, 'Craig, c'mon, supper!'

I put the food on my fork and put the fork into my mouth, kind of forcing myself. My appetite comes and goes. I remembered when I was Craig's age and was always voraciously hungry. Craig didn't seem to have much of an appetite, either. Most days. He forced it down just like I did.

"So how was school?" I said in general, to the masses. Craig looked down at his plate, pushing a stick of carrot next to a white cube of chicken.

"Good! Guess what we did? We colored this picture of this huge bird!" Angie. Everything was so exciting. I smiled at her, but truly felt just a hint of what I would have felt if Julia was here. The three of us, I thought. We looked normal enough, having supper, talking about the day. But we all felt Julia's absence like a gaping hole in the head. Maybe Ang was young enough to have escaped the worst scars. Maybe the wound of having her mother gone would heal without a trace. But for me and Craig it was overwhelming and maybe always would be. Sometimes I could feel her, feel her here with me, feel her smile when Angie said something cute. But other times, like this time, she was faint. She was trapped under the dirt and under the silk of the coffin.

I used to ask Craig about his day but all I'd ever get was a noncommittal "fine," so I kind of gave up. Then again, I wanted him to know that I was interested in his day and his life, even if he didn't want to share it.

"How was school today, Craig?" I said, braving his indifference.

"Pretty good," he said, a little half smile on his face. What was this? Some positive emotion? I almost couldn't believe it.

"Really? Pretty good? What made it pretty good?"

No answer, but he ducked his head and smiled a real smile and I knew. This was about a girl. I had to tease him.

"Oh, I know. You don't have to tell me. It's a girl. You did the infamous locker lean," I smiled, Angie smirked, even though she didn't really get it.

"Huh?" he said, the fork poised near his mouth.

"Oh, you know, when you lean all sexy up against the girl's locker or the one next to her locker. It's a patented move,"

He shook his head but he was still smiling. He'd done that. It killed me. He was going to be a lady killer, just like his step-dad. Well, I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.


End file.
